be it ever so humble. . .

A man's home is his castle (and his lady's, if he is so lucky), no matter how rude it may be.

My home is nothing to brag about. The roof doesn't leak, although it's been replaced since I bought it and then a huge oak tree tried to cave it in. The windows keep the rain out and the air conditioner works. New landscaping makes the front of the house look better and the new citrus trees in the back yard should bear fruit in a year or two. Life could be worse, although we are overdue to gut the kitchen and bathrooms and replace them from the floor tiles up.

These thoughts occurred to me today when I picked up the latest copy of the Florida Bar News and read, to my amazement, that a well-known and wealthy lawyer in Palm Beach County has been suspended from practice. He has pleaded guilty to a federal felony, agreed to cough up $400,000 to the Internal Revenue Service, and agreed to cooperate with the IRS in determining and paying any tax liabilities, penalties and interest. The story does not say what became of his home. I've never seen his home but, trust me, it does (or did?) not look like mine.

He was an assistant county attorney early in his career. He helped rewrite the county's land use regulations, then jumped ship and made a ton of money representing developers in a county where there's never really been a recession. For years, he's been one of the people I thought I should have emulated. I could have done that, I thought. I thought of him in June, when I was in Palm Beach County for a scuba diving trip and saw his name on the back of a serious bicycler's racing jersey. Not just his name, but "B__ B___'s Racing Team." For a moment I tried to visualize a similar jersey with my name on the back, but it didn't come into focus. Now it sounds like the good life as he knew it is over.

When I go home tonight I will look around my hovel and think, at least it's all mine. I earned what it took to be in it the old-fashioned way, and I will not have the IRS or federal prosecutors breathing down my neck.